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Lex woke up in a position he was beginning to become familiar with over the last two months—wrapped up in Clark’s arms. While the position had been anything but sexual since Clark returned from Israel, the warmth Clark radiated in the night was still amazingly comfortable to wake up to. Even in his depression—yes, he was depressed, he could admit it—since the miscarriage, he had been starting to think that he wanted to wake up like this as often as possible for the rest of his life.
And after last night, after Clark said yes to Lex’s half-assed proposal, he would.
Clark’s left hand sat over Lex’s heart and his fingers twitched as Lex opened his eyes, trying to convince himself this was all real. And see the clock. Before he could focus on the red glow of the numbers, that hand slid down his abs.
“I know you’re awake,” Clark whispered in Lex’s ear. Then pressed a kiss to the back of his head.
“Hmm, yeah,” Lex drawled, not bothering to sound completely coherent. Clark’s tentacles were twitching, slithering over the skin of his ass. They hadn’t done that in the morning the last few months. A deep back corner of his mind wanted to be freaked out, but the part of him that remembered how damned good those tentacles felt tangled in his just thought it felt good.
Clark’s hand slipped down a little further and brushed against Lex’s tentacles. It didn’t take much to get them active. Little shivers of pleasure slid up Lex’s spine as they tangled with Clark’s fingers.
“Oh good,” Clark purred. “I’ve been waiting for hours.”
“Waiting?” Lex asked, embarrassingly incoherently as the tip of a finger dipped into the pouch that hid his penis. Fuck that felt good.
“Umm hmmm,” Clark murmured, kissing the bump on the back of Lex’s skull, then licking it, then nibbling down the back of Lex’s neck. “Made you’re a promise last night.”
Lex had a hard time remembering what had happened last night, let alone any promise, given what Clark was doing with his fingers. Until a slick tentacle slithered between his back cheeks and in.
“Oh,” Lex gasped. Right, his turn. Damn, that did feel good. Learning to control his tentacles wasn’t the same as feeling Clark’s slowly slide inside, wiggling, twisting, first one, then two, then…. “Damn, that is better than fingers.”
“Too coherent,” Clark muttered, sounding more than a little distracted himself. His fingers had stopped moving, though just tangling his tentacles around those fingers felt damned good to Lex. Still, the sensation wasn’t as intense as it was.
Lex wiggled back against Clark, feeling another tentacle slither in, slick and warm and perfect, then added his hand to Clark’s tugging and squeezing at his tentacles. “You stopped—“
Clark’s finger poked into Lex’s pouch again and pleasure set up fascinating patterns across the inside of his eyelids. “Sorry,” Clark whispered. “Still figuring….”
A tentacle slithered out instead of in and Lex got it. Clark was focused on getting his tentacles where he wanted them. Given he hadn’t considered that level of control before Lex showed it last night—and fuck, hadn’t that felt amazing, sliding his tentacles deep inside Clark—Clark was doing pretty good.
“Good focus,” Lex muttered. Had to be at least six inside already. “So full.” He was. And there was still more to come. He clenched his muscles and savored Clark’s groan. “Fuck me.” Another tentacle slithered in, maybe, probably, and one brushed over Lex’s prostate. He moaned and bucked back into Clark, slamming their hips together. “Please,” he whimpered. Whimpered! Lex Luthor did not whimper.
Clark’s tentacles stroked across Lex’s prostate a few more times, each time triggering a flush of pleasure through Lex’s limbs. His penis slid out and wrapped itself around Clark’s hand, twitching and tightening with each stroke.
“I said,” Lex forced out despite the glorious sensations, “fuck me.” He wanted to know everything Clark felt last night.
Something more slithered inside, another brush against his prostate, and Lex bucked between Clark’s hips and his hand.
“Sure you’re ready?” Clark asked, suddenly sounding all too coherent, totally focused.
“Yes,” Lex hissed. He might not be, but he didn’t give a fuck. He’d heal.
“Oh God,” Clark moaned as so much more suddenly filled Lex. Poor farmboy must have been resisting so hard. The first inch or two went fast enough to burn and pull sharply at muscles that weren’t loose enough, but Lex didn’t care. A little more and Clark’s penis was pressing against Lex’s prostate, twitching about with its independent movement as well as with little hitching movements of Clark’s hips.
Before long Lex was limp in Clark’s arms just feeling—feeling the twitches of each of Clark’s tentacles working inside him; feeling the pressure against his prostate every time Clark wiggled and groaned; feeling Clark working deeper and deeper and deeper, deeper than anyone had ever been.
“Oh fuck,” Lex groaned, barely able to form the words. And he’d thought going down on Clark was beyond words.
“So deep,” Clark muttered into Lex’s scalp, reading Lex’s mind. “Not even all in yet. So incredible from every—“
“Ahhhhhhh!” Lex bucked, slamming his hips into Clark’s as something lit off a firework inside him, pleasure at least twice as intense as pressure on his prostate shot from his belly to his fingers and toes. He wouldn’t have been surprised to see lightning burns in the sheets near every digit when he next wedged his eyelids open.
Clark froze, arm tightening around Lex. “Lex, are you—“
“Fuck, Clark, do that again,” Lex demanded. If that was what he’d hit in Clark last night—
Lightning shot through him again, pleasure flooding every inch of him with just a twitch of Clark’s amazing, stunning, fulfilling, perfect alien cock.
“Guess that’s an Uchahvia thing,” Clark said. He licked Lex’s bare scalp, sending a shiver down Lex’s spine. Then twitched again, whiting out the whole of existence.
When reality settled back to normal, Clark was panting and Lex felt full of incredible warmth, even more than he had before. Limp and sated, his tentacles were slowly retreating, tickling across Clark’s equally limp hand.
“That was….” Lex, for once in his life, couldn’t find the words.
“An excellent way to wake up?” Clark offered.
“Hmmm.” Lex stretched a little, savoring the lethargy in every limb and the continuing feeling of fullness. “Or fall asleep.”
Clark shivered as Lex clenched down a little. “We can take a little nap before we see Bruce. It’s only six.”
Lex chuckled. “He won’t be up for a few hours anyway.”
“Probably just went to bed,” Clark countered.
“If you hadn’t just fucked my brains out, I might be tempted to wake him up.”
Clark mouthed at the knob at the back of Lex’s head.
”Hmm, you can wake me up that way any time you like.” Lex snuggled back against Clark, loving the warmth blanketing every inch of his back.
“Ditto,” Clark muttered sleepily. His hand, still damp with Lex’s release, slid up Lex’s chest to rest over his heart.